


With the Remnants

by adamantaflame



Series: We Are Stronger Together [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Death Fic, Grieving, Hurt No Comfort, Infinity War C, M/M, Pain, Post-Infinity War, Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Steve always loses bucky, Steve loves Bucky so much, THAT SCENE, bucky didn't deserve this, emotional angst, im crying, steve grieving bucky, steve is crying, this is therapy for all of us, we are all crying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 19:53:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14456559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adamantaflame/pseuds/adamantaflame
Summary: This is Steve's reaction to the immediate aftermath of that scene. How does Steve go on after losing Bucky again? After seeing Bucky die in front of him and being powerless to stop it again? Shuri and Okoye are also there, and they are all grieving their losses together.





	With the Remnants

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really in a lot of pain. So, this was my attempt to cope with fic. This is just some pure Steve-angst death fic coping with Bucky's loss.

_Not ashes, not exactly, fine like dirt, but rougher, slightly more sticky to my fingers as I gathered you up in a small flask, as much of you as I could, searching through the leaves and twigs, trying to find every last miniscule piece of you. Sifting through the dirt to separate the two, no part of you belonged in the dirt, there to be forgotten. Desperately searching until the sky darkened, as the forest turned black and cold._

_“Steve,” a voice called out to me, a hand on my shoulder, a steady presence at my side, grief apparent in her own voice, but I couldn't answer. Could only focus on the task in front of me. Hearing my name said out loud brought to mind the last time you said it and the fear in your eyes._

_Hands meeting in the shared grief. The loss of a lover, a friend, a brother, mutual suffering, expansive and rending. Time not knitting back together to fix what had been done. Everything undone. Bucky’s body and cells undone again...taken away from me again before my very eyes….lost…._

  
“It’s time to go, Captain,” Okoye reached out her hand, tear-lines streaked down her face, dusty and dirty from the long day of fighting and from the even longer night. Each one of them having found a way to make it to the dawn in their own ways.

Steve took her outstretched hand, noticing now that is own hand was bloodied, finger tips scratched from desperately searching among the rocks and branches for the remnants. Blood caked on his mouth, the taste of the iron noticeable now that is senses were coming back to him slowly, as if being pulled out of a trance.

Steve could only nod. Standing up, Okoye’s eyes dark and puffy, but grim, a determined set to her face, lips firm and set. There was work to do for them both. There is always work to be done for a captain and a general.

More grief. T’Challa. T’Challa gone, and Sam, and others, so many others. Too many to process. Each one needed to be mourned for in turn.

They slipped their arms around each other for the briefest of moments. It was too much. The comfort too much for Steve; he couldn’t allow himself that right now.

Another pair of arms found their way around his body, holding onto him tight. Shuri. They had shared in their grief throughout the night. Her tears louder than his own, although she had seen her fair share of loss for her age, still able to wear it more openly. He hoped she would never lose that. The fierce and open way that she loved and lost.

“Shuri,” He said low, words too much for any of them right now. He let her hug him, returning her hug tightly, wanting to comfort her even if he didn’t feel he deserved comfort for himself.

Quiet sobs from Shuris mouth threatening to rip sounds of grief from his own. Now that they had recovered the bodies, all of the bodies, as well as they could, it was time to leave this place, but Steve felt rooted to the spot. Wanted to lay down on the cursed earth and dissolve into it, wanted to be picked up piece by piece and put inside the vial with Bucky, mixed together, not wrenched apart again. Even more than that, he wanted to take Bucky’s place, would have given anything for Bucky to be the one to continue on instead of Steve, to continue to live and breathe and enjoy the sanctuary and beauty of Wakanda and the people he loved there.

He pulled himself away from Shuri’s arms, knees hitting the ground again, hearing a gut-wrenching sound echo amongst the trees, scaring birds away that had settled in the quiet again in the surrounding canopy. A long, drawn out scream that he recognized as coming from his own lungs, was powerless to stop. His grieving up to this point had been nearly silent, but the weight of Bucky’s non-existent body in dust-ash against his chest was too much.

He was vaguely aware of Sheri's renewed sobbing, and wanted to comfort her, lifted his eyes and saw Okoye’s arms around Shuri. Her own tears falling onto the top of Shuri’s head, and he let himself not worry about them again for a moment. Aware of their grief, all of them entwined in it together, and yet alone in it. Lonely and terrified, unanchored and untethered as grief always is.

“Bucky….Bucky, no, please, come back to me,” Steve called out. His chest on fire, clutching his bleeding hand around the vial on his chest, Wishing his own body would continue to bleed, that he could feel something, anything else then this loss again, again, again.

He had had him back, finally. Held him in his arms, kissed him, held his body so real and close again. Even in those moments, Steve wondered if it was too good to be true, a miracle, a stolen life that seemed never meant to be theirs. The universe always ripping it away from them just when they held it again. Such a fragile thing. A brief junction in time where they had begun to heal, had been able to spend time together. Some sort of dream where Steve had been able to see Bucky safe, beautiful, whole and shining.

He was a fool to not spend every moment like that, tucked away together, his arms around Bucky tight. He should never have let him come to this fight. Should have told him to run far away from it. Should have done anything to protect him.

He couldn’t protect him. He had failed him again. No matter how strong he was. Powerless to save those he loved most. To save his Buck.

_“Steve?”_

_“Steve?”_

_“Steve?”_

  
Bucky walking towards him, drifting away into the air, falling apart at the seams in front of his eyes, falling, falling, falling. Steve unable to stop it. He couldn’t save him. Bucky, always like a ghost to him, a ghost again, not real anymore. The body he had held and hugged just hours before non-existent once again. He should have stopped it somehow.

“I’m sorry, Buck. I’m so sorry. I failed you again,” Steve whispered to what remained of Bucky that rested on his chest, to whatever soul or spirit might hear him if any such thing existed.

Why was it always the end of the line for Bucky, and why was Steve always so useless to follow through on his promises?

Steve doubled over, his head in his hands, pressing his forehead into the dirt, wanting the earth to swallow him up. He didn’t want to walk back to Wakanda and put on a brave face. He didn’t want to lead anyone or save the world. But, he would. He would for Bucky. He would for T’Challa. For Sam. For everyone they had lost. He would make him pay. Would make Thanos pay for what he had done.

Steve rose up from the ground on shaky legs and looked over at Okoye and Shuri, reading the same determination in their eyes, the resolve to make this as right as possible, to end him who had ended them. Somehow, he walked forward with them, heading back towards the city, Bucky’s remains cold and heavy over his heartbeat.

 

 


End file.
